


A Muggle End

by TheDarkLordChaos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, PTSD, Sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-03-20 01:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18982693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordChaos/pseuds/TheDarkLordChaos
Summary: Harry and Tom have been beaten and trodden on by muggles. Millions have been lost. Now they have the chance to fix it together. They’ve planned it. But not everything always goes according to plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but perhaps the story idea or plot, everything else belongs to the beautiful Jo Rowling

He panted roughly, wand raised to maintain the fragile shield charm.  
“C’mon Riddle! We have to go!”  
“No. You have to go. If I drop this shield we’re both gone. I’ll cover you.”  
Harry shook his head, tugged on his arm.  
“This isn’t up for discussion Riddle.”  
“You’re right. It’s not.”  
He waved his hand in a complicated gesture that Harry would have once teased, or perhaps smiled at in an amused manner, before he murmured something about drama and extravagant movements. But now he only yelled, recognizing the kind of magic it was, and vanished as he was sent a few meters away.  
“Go Harry.”  
The bullets patterned his shield in invisible dents. The spell he’d used to get him further away was a light one but he felt the effects nevertheless. It wasn’t long before he was by his side again. He’d hoped the extra distance would encourage Harry to leave. He should have known better.  
“Tom no.”  
Tom smiled at him slightly, turned his head just enough so that he could concentrate on the only barrier keeping them alive but also to still meet his eyes.  
“You have the information you need. You know how to go back. We’ve planned—”  
“To go together! Stop being a stubborn git and let’s go!”  
Tom stumbled back a bit more under more force; apparently cavalry had arrived.  
“We can’t Harry. You won’t be able to apparate with me too. Your magic is already strained. And the last of mine is going into preserving this shield. Surely you can tell that I won’t last? You have to go.”  
“You’ll die!”  
“Yes. And I’ll go knowing I was right to worry.”  
“So what you’re staying to spite Dumbledore?! That’s ridiculous! Tom!”  
“No you idiot. I’m staying because I have to. Please, don’t make this harder. You know I’m right.”  
Tom watched him; he faltered, but still set an arm on his shoulder, eyes misting with the determination he’d used to fight basilisks and dragons, him, and now, muggles, and Tom knew that he wouldn’t convince Harry to go.  
“I’m not leaving you here.”  
“You have to. Don’t try coming back. It’ll only waste my death.”  
He stuck the port key to the front of Harry’s robes and watched as the blue light emerged from the tiny object burning brighter than the sun.  
“I love you Harry.”  
He’s never said it before. It hadn’t seemed right. Strange how all tragedies seemed to make rightness revolve around them too, despite it actually being so wrong.  
“Tom.”  
He vanished, and Tom smiled, bloodied teeth gleaming like fangs and he brandished them at the muggles like they were actual weapons rather than a show of small triumph. The bullets hit harder then, bigger dents. More, more, more. The shield didn’t shatter, or collapse, but simply faded and flickered out like it had never been at all. And the first bullet struck his chest and he fell into the dirt with the same triumphant pain he’d bared in his teeth when Harry had gone. Because Harry was gone. But Harry would be back. And maybe Tom wouldn’t remember him when his young lover turned back those years. But Tom would still be ready. He lay still as bullets continued to rain, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. When he woke up he’d see Harry again. And then, the muggles would pay.


	2. Before the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Harry argue, but everything is always alright in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to the beautiful Jo Rowling.

“Muggle baiting? What are they? Animals?”  
“Yes. That is exactly what they are.” He said it seriously.  
“Are you kidding?”   
“Kidding? No. I’m very serious.”  
“I know that you’ve had your experiences but—”  
“They are dangerous.”  
“As are we! And it’s clearly us that needs to be watched more carefully as it’s our race— our race, Tom, that’s baiting muggles with dangerous magical objects!”   
Harry glared down at his hands, ripped his eyes away from Tom. The other remained calm, hands clasped around a mug. A tense stillness settled over the space between them broken only by Tom’s absently sipped coffee.  
“I don’t agree with the method that seems to be so popular right now. Or the reasons behind it. But at least they’re doing something. We can’t underestimate them. If we don’t start taking measures now, it could be all the more dangerous for us later.”  
“Us? What do you mean us?”  
He frowned and Tom’s knuckles bleached white behind the handle of his coffee mug, fingers tight around it.  
“Wizards. Witches. We’ve spoken of this. You know the dangers.”  
“Yes I do! That’s what I’ve been trying to say!”  
“Not us you fool. The dangers of muggles. Which is why I disagree with the baiting. It only increases the risk of them finding us sooner.”  
“But you still think we need to take action.”  
“Do not mistake me Harry I do not wish them dead—”  
“Then what do you want?”  
The coffee mug was set briskly on the table.  
“Separation. I’ve told you this too—why won’t you listen?”  
“I am listening! I’ve been listening and it’s wrong! I don’t agree! It’s cruel!”  
“Wrong? You think it wrong? It’s not harming them in anyway— Merlin Harry, this is logic. This will save our kind.”  
“‘Our kind.’ You say it like we’re a different species. ‘Our kind’.”  
“To have muggles remain in close proximity is suicidal.”   
“You say ‘muggle’ the same way.”   
“They’re different.”   
“They’re human.”  
“They won’t understand.”  
“Damn it Tom! They’re living beings too! You can’t just go around playing with their lives!”  
“This is the only way for peace without killing them. We would end up at war.”  
“You don’t know that!”  
“I do. Because I am not so painfully optimistic as to blind myself to their faults.”  
Tom sat back in his chair. He had kept his words calm but Harry could see the agitation shuttered within the tension of his jaw.  
“What about our faults?”  
Tom’s eyes narrowed.  
“What makes us so much better? We would be doing this without giving them a chance.”  
“They’ve had chances. With our children. They’ve failed.”  
Harry softened. “Not all families are like that.”  
“I know.”  
“Tom. We can’t do this. Not without reason. Too many people are connected to both worlds.”  
“.... I know.”  
“Tom.”  
“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”  
“No, I know that, but you mean these things. You’re… passionate about it. And I understand why. But this is beyond us. It’s not any one person’s decision to make. Not even you. I promise though, if I ever find out that there is a reason. A good one. I stand with you. Just talk to me first. We’ll work it out.”  
“Harry.”  
“What?”  
“You do listen.”  
“What? Yes. That’s what I said.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Is that supposed to replace the apology for calling me a fool?”  
“....”  
“You’re welcome. And I forgive you. Git.”  
They smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey! Constructive criticism or just some kind words or encouragement are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	3. Maybe Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry knows loss. It’s everywhere. And he’s long grown ‘immune’. At least he thought so. But now is not the time to feel. Now is the time to act. So that maybe, he can give hope to a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Rights to Harry Potter go to the lovely Jo Rowling.

He choked on landing. It was easy, something between a sob and a curse. An automatic reaction that was filled with horrible unfeeling. He never was good at magical transportation; he felt like he was worse for even that now, somehow. Inexplicably linked. Death seemed to do that he’d noticed.

         “Damn you Tom.”

         He wished that grief flooded his senses. He wished that his body ached with the pain of loss and want and longing. He wished that he cared that going back would be pointless now because he would only be met by the dead. Harry wished many things, and he kept wishing them. He thought that perhaps this was his breaking point. To feel so much pain that he felt none of it. This was what heroes were supposed to do though right? Bend and break, but then mend and only be stronger for it. But he had defeated his villain years and years ago. That time was separated by another life. Fixing Voldemort, making him  _ Tom  _ again, wasn’t really defeating anyway was it? Just a cheap solution because he was too much of a coward to do it right. But it had gotten him someone he loved, and who had loved him in return, even if it had never been said back to him, until the end. Except it wasn’t the end. Because he was going to fix it. And Harry refused to go without actually saying goodbye. 

         He apparated back to where he’d left. Been whisked away. Pushed. Forced from a place he wanted to be. Protected. He knew of course that while Tom had wanted him safe, his main goal had been to give Harry a chance. He didn’t want to waste what had been given to him at such a cost, but he also didn't have the time to prepare himself and gear up to his teeth, didn’t have the energy to be so careful, not for a simple outing with the dead. So he landed harshly, without all the precautionary charms and wards and extra protection; his boots kicked dust and he stood a ragged picture under the cheerful sun. He buried the muggles first. The ones they’d managed to down. They deserved peace as much as everyone else. It took two sides to fight a war, despite how he knew that wizards were just protecting themselves, he couldn’t help the guilt at any lives lost. His hero complex seemed to be in tact at least. One of the few things left. He buried the wizards after, calmer for those, more mournful, if he had anything left in him to mourn. And then there was Tom. The muggles they’d encountered must have been new at hunting. Harry counted only five bullets that met significant marks. He hoped that he hadn’t suffered. It seemed a dubious wish. He touched his face softly, white, delicate, cold, eyes closed. He wished they were open. Perhaps then he wouldn’t be able to think him asleep. It wasn’t hard to convince himself, even half way, that he was resting. His injuries too much to persevere, so he made way willingly to unconsciousness. Harry new immediately when the pain of it all rose higher than the amount he’d ever previously experienced, because he felt the familiar distance in his head and the sharp twist in his heart, like the injuries of his lover were his own. He tried crying. That helped sometimes, but tears were beyond him this time and so he lay his head down on Tom’s chest, imagined that it moved him as he breathed. Consequences or no. Sometimes he really wished that Tom still had his horcruxes.

         When he’d finished and gotten back to his place of residence (there was no real home anymore, Hogwarts was gone and there’d never been anywhere else really), and wiped his skin of grime as well as he could, he changed. Settled into his battle robes, holstered his wand, the spare one too, and put everything he needed into the extended moleskin pouch around his neck. The marauder’s map, Sirius’s knife, Ron’s deluminator, Hermione’s old book on Fairy Tales, and Tom’s wand (all happy memories), the rest were rune stones, and other items of protection which Tom had said would soon pile too high to even fit into the heavily charmed pouch. Harry would make it fit. He’d learned the hard way that carrying valuable things separately was a bad idea. He looked around the dingy room, observing the rickety questionable bed that Tom had first warded when they’d initially found the place. He’d wanted to make sure no one could sneak up on them while they slept. If only it applied to them when they were outside. He looked away, scared to linger. Scared to trap himself in loss, but he reached a hand down and ran it over the sheets anyway. Rough and probably dirty. They never thought much about cleaning these days he supposed. Strange. They forgot so many things. Harry wondered how human they were anymore. Anxiety burst beneath his skin without warning and he sat hard on the bed, unable to breath, because he was  _ leaving.  _ He was leaving and he wouldn’t be coming back here. Not ever. This would never exist and be suddenly realized how terrified he was. How was he supposed to go back to something that was a dream? Foggy, almost washed away by time. He didn’t want to love this place. But he’d unconsciously associated it with Tom. Because everyone else had left and died but Tom had still been there. The bastard, insufferable consistently, dependable. Present. Always. Until he wasn’t. Until now. Hardy wondered if there was some sort of switch he could flip off. Tom was gone. Tom was dead. But this time wasn’t. Not yet. But Harry was going to kill that too. And wasn’t that all that he had left? He was being stupid. He had so much to gain by leaving and everything to lose by staying. But that was it wasn’t if? He had nothing more to lose. His life hadn’t counted in a long time. It had been years since he’d had something to gain. He just needed to remember how. He stood steadily, a new burst not of energy, or life, or positivity, but determination, and stubbornness coursed through his heavy limbs. And before he could allow sentiment, and love, and pain, and hopelessness to keep him there any longer, he grabbed his case full of clothing and spun the enhanced time turner around his neck. He closed his eyes. Harry Potter vanished without a look back. No one could stop him from fixing the world. He had a hero complex, fully intact. And he was going to use it to save them. All of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, thanks for reading! Words of advice or constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thank you.


End file.
